


Ransom

by margoxx12



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA, Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margoxx12/pseuds/margoxx12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“According to reports, sir, Gavin Free seems to be the weak link of the group. Should we target him?”<br/>“No. He may be the weak link but he’s at the end of the chain. We need to break the chain, not make it shorter, Carleton.”<br/>“You’re right, sir.”<br/>“However, their Gents division is untouchable. And taking Free out of the candidates leaves?”<br/>“Michael Jones and Ray Narvaez Junior.”<br/>“Not Narvaez. Jones appears to have more history with other members of Fake AH.”<br/>“Hitting them where it hurts, sir?”<br/>“Carleton, you’re getting the hang of this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I WILL EDIT THE TAGS WHEN I WRITE MORE BUT AT THIS POINT IN TIME I'M NOT SURE IF THERE WILL BE TORTURE OR JUST HAVE IT BE IMPLIED OR REFERENCED OR IF WE'LL JUST GLOSS OVER THAT FUN STUFF ALL TOGETHER. IF YOU'VE GOT ISSUES WITH POTENTIALLY DARK, POTENTIALLY UNSETTLING POTENTIAL TORTURE MAYBE DON'T READ)

“We’ve got to hit them where it hurts. They’ll be forced to negotiate.”

“According to reports, sir, Gavin Free seems to be the weak link of the group. Should we target him?”

“No. He may be the weak link but he’s at the end of the chain. We need to break the chain, not make it shorter, Carleton.”

“You’re right, sir.”

“However, their Gents division is untouchable. And taking Free out of the candidates leaves?”

“Michael Jones and Ray Narvaez Junior.”

“Not Narvaez. Jones appears to have more history with other members of Fake AH.”

“Hitting them where it hurts, sir?”

“Carleton, you’re getting the hang of this.”

\---

Michael shouldered his duffel bag full of cash and stood.

“Gavin!” He shouted, waving the other over from across the abandoned lot.

“What’s up?” Gavin jogged over.

“First off, put that fucking thing away,” Michael indicated the grenade in Gavin’s hand in an annoyed manner.

Turning, Gavin pulled the pin out of the device and chucked it over the empty trailer home behind them.

“I SAID PUT IT AWAY NOT THROW IT!” Michael bellowed as the explosion sent tremors through the earth. “WHAT IF WE NEED THAT?”

“What do we do now, Micool?” Gavin asked, struggling not to grin.

“We get back to HQ and cash this bad boy in,” Michael shrugged to show Gavin the duffel bag.

“Right,” Gavin agreed. “Can I drive?”

“ _NO_.”

“Please?”

“Christ, Gavin! N- you know what, I don’t give a shit. Fine.”

Gavin made a pleased noise.

The two walked over to their stolen SUV, not looking back at the carnage of blood and defeated enemy corpses behind them.

Once they were on the road, Michael picked up his phone to call their boss.

“Michael!” Geoff said, not bothering with a greeting. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah,” Michael grumbled. “But Gavin, fucking brimming with wisdom, decided to waste our last grenade, and the firefight was a bit bigger than expected so we’re running on a few bullets. Should we go by Ammu-Nation on the way back or what?”

“Just get here we need you back here to-”

Michael never heard the rest of Geoff’s sentence.

A gunshot rang out left of the car. Gavin cried out as the bullet slammed into his shoulder, causing him to lose his grip on the wheel.

“ _Gavin_!”

Suddenly everything went dark.

\---

“Michael? MICHAEL!” Geoff was shouting frantically into his phone when Jack burst into the room, closely tailed by Ryan and Ray. “FUCK! ANSWER ME!”

He slammed the phone so hard onto his desk that it shattered instantly.

“Geoff, what’s going on?” Jack asked.

“Something’s wrong!” Geoff’s normal businesslike attitude was gone, replaced by panic. “We need to get to Gavin and Michael right now. We have GPS on them right?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Lets go. I’ll send you the info on the way. Ray!”

Ryan and Ray sprinted out to the garage and took off in the fastest car available- Michael’s chrome Bugatti. Jack and Geoff took Jack’s blue sports car.

Both cars wove through traffic expertly at top speed.

Geoff picked up Jack's phone on the first ring.

“ _They’re near the base of Chilliad. Just follow us._ ”

“Got it,” Geoff confirmed, then hung up.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked again, daring to take his eyes off the road to glance at Geoff.

“Michael called to confirm that they’d got the package, and suddenly I heard a gunshot and shouting and then the call cut out,” Geoff was so tense that Jack was afraid that if what they didn’t find was good, the boss would snap for real.

“They’re probably fine,” Jack lied, ears ringing with adrenaline. "Probably a small gunfight. Not unusual."

“They were low on ammo,” Geoff added.

“Goddamn it,” Jack muttered. “Who do you think is behind this?”

“Someone desperate enough to be okay with a death sentence on their head,” Geoff barked. “Just concentrate on driving.”

At the speed limit and in traffic, the journey would have taken 15 minutes at least, but the four members of the Fake AH Crew made it there in four.

“Oh no,” Geoff groaned.

Up ahead of them, a smoking SUV had been run off the road and was stuck awkwardly in the roadside ditch. Ryan and Ray screeched to a halt and leapt out of their ride with Jack and Geoff following suit.

“GAVIN!” Geoff bellowed. “MICHAEL!”

Ryan cocked his pistol and advanced cautiously on the wrecked vehicle.

Gavin was slumped against the airbag that had exploded from the steering wheel, unconscious and bloody.

It was Ray who ran forward to help first. He flung the driver’s door open and unbuckled the Brit.

“Vav!” He said shaking his friend. “Come on, man, wake up! Gavin!”

Geoff shoved Ray out of the way and pulled Gavin out of the car, laying him on the road and crouching next to him.

“Geoff?” Gavin’s eyes fluttered open.

“Oh my god, he’s alive!” Geoff called to the others, who all crowded around except Ryan who stayed to search the wreck. “Gav, I’m gonna try to sit you up, okay?”

Gavin nodded.

Geoff slid his hand underneath the young man’s back and held him in a sitting position.

“Where are you hurt?” Jack asked.

“Shot in m’arm,” Gavin said weakly.

“No sign of Michael!” Ryan called.

“What?” Gavin was suddenly alert and struggling wildly to stand up. Ray wordlessly nodded to Geoff who allowed him to help the injured man to his feet, draping Gavin’s uninjured arm across his shoulders and taking most of Gavin’s weight.

Geoff and Jack moved to join Ryan on the passenger’s side.

Michael was nowhere to be seen. The seatbelt was sliced away from where Michael had evidently been. There was blood on the passenger door that made Geoff sick to look at.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” Even Ryan sounded nervous.

“I don’t know,” Geoff said, before something on the seat caught his eye.

On the seat was a silver USB drive which Geoff pocketed. Suddenly, the pieces began to come together in Geoff’s mind.

He knew exactly what was going on.

“Michael!” Gavin shouted weakly, but there was no response. Of of course there wasn’t, Geoff thought.

Geoff looked at Gavin, and the look they shared was all it took for Gavin to crumble against Ray, defeated.

“Michael’s gone.”


	2. Chapter 2

Once they got back to headquarters, Ryan- the most practiced of the group at fixing up gunshot wounds- helped Gavin to the infirmary and the others went to Geoff’s office.

Geoff sank into his chair and let his head fall into his hands.

“Geoff, what’s the plan?” Ray asked impatiently.

“I don’t know!” Geoff shouted. Ray and Jack both jumped.

“Okay,” Jack held his hands up as a sign of peace. “Do you have any leads?”

“They left us a present,” Geoff said, pulling out the silver USB drive from the wreck. He grabbed his laptop and impatiently hit the spacebar until the machine buzzed to life.

“It could be a virus,” Jack said nervously.

“No, they took a hostage because they want something,” Ray guessed. “Why would they take Michael just to get a virus into our system?”

“Exactly,” Geoff agreed.

He inserted the device into the laptop’s port and waited. The room was charged with quiet anticipation as they waited for something to happen.

Suddenly, a window opened on the screen.

“Oh _fuck_ me,” Geoff gasped, staring at the screen.

“What is it?” Jack stepped forward.

“We’re dealing with someone who takes hostages, has minions-” Geoff looked up and met Jack’s eyes. “-and likes countdowns.”

“You don’t think-”

“Yeah, I do."

"What's up?" Ray asked, confused.

Geoff and Jack ignored him. Jack moved around the table to look at the laptop.

_STAY TUNED FOR A SPECIAL LIVE STREAM IN... 3:10:18_ , The screen proclaimed.

"Does he want us to do something in three hours?"

"No," Geoff guessed. "They haven't made any demands for us to comply with. He wants us to sit and wait."

"They could do anything to Michael in three hours!"

"I know but there's nothing we can do!"

At that moment, Ryan burst into the room.

"He'll live," Ryan answered the question that hovered over everyone. "That bullet was either well placed or missed by an inch because it missed anything important in his arm. The shock from the impact and pain caused him to lose control. Mild concussion from the airbag, too, but he seems aware at least."

"How's he feeling?" Geoff asked.

Ryan frowned, "He's not well enough to work, but he's hell-bent on helping. He blames himself."

Geoff looked at the screen in front of him.

_STAY TUNED FOR A SPECIAL LIVE STREAM IN... 3:07:10_

_3:07:09_

_3:07:08_

_3:07:07_

_3:07:06_

"Tell Kerry to drive Gavin to Griffin," He said finally. "She and Millie can take care of him."

"You're benching him?" Ray spluttered in disbelief.

"Geoff, are you sure?" Even Jack seemed dissatisfied with Geoff's decision. "If it's really Andrews, are you sure we can afford to lose two men?"

"He's hurt and he blames himself," Geoff said. "If it's really Andrews, we can't afford to have a loose cannon."

"And then what?" Ray demanded.

\---

Michael’s eyes fluttered open. The only light was coming from a little window in the corner of the bare room they'd laid him in.

Everything ached. His head, his arms, his neck.

The cause behind the ache in his arms became immediately apparent when Michael reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and realized that a pair of handcuffs behind his back had other plans for him.

He did his best to push himself off the concrete floor into a sitting position without his arms.

“Well, this is fucking spectacular,” He said to the concrete wall. As he spoke, he became aware of the dried blood on the side of his face and remembered where it came from.

A car accident.

No, a car _ambush_.

_Where’s Gavin?_

Michael prayed that Gavin had gotten clear of the car.

How long had he been here?

At that moment, the door in the corner of the room was pushed open from the outside and a man in an intimidating black suit entered. Michael was unimpressed.

“I didn’t think it could get more cliche and then you walked in,” He told the man dryly.

“Shut up,” The man responded coldly.

“Where’s my friend?” Michael tried.

The man strode over to where Michael was sitting, grabbed his bloody hair and pulled him harshly to his feet. The sudden fast movement was too much for Michael’s aching head to process and he stumbled, seeing black at the corners of his vision.

Michael steadied himself, “Where’s my friend?” Michael repeated.

“You don’t ask questions, we do,” The man snapped.

“Fine,” Michael said indignantly. “But whatever shit you’re trying to pull here ain’t gonna fly very long.”

Maybe if Michael had known about the knife, he’d have kept his mouth shut.

-

The man in the suit unlocked Michael's handcuffs.

Michael's hands immediately went to the slash in his chest that he had received when the man had last been in the cell two hours ago. The bleeding had stopped and he could feel the rough beginnings of a scab forming. His tattered shirt was now stained red.

"Follow with me," The man said dryly. "And if you try anything, I'll give you another one of those."

Michael nodded and stood up. Injured and outnumbered, he decided his best plan of attack was to comply with whatever they had in store until he found out some weaknesses.

The man led him out into a brightly lit hall that hurt Michael's eyes from the sharp contrast to the dim room in which he had been confined. The hall space was richly decorated, Michael noticed.

From the cell they'd kept him in, Michael had been under the impression the outside would be just as cliche as the inside but as he was led through the halls and up multiple flights of stars, he realized that the concrete room in the basement was for intimidation. His new surroundings brought little comfort to him.

Soon, they entered what was clearly the main commons of the building. The room was bathed in almost blinding Los Santos afternoon light. Michael struggled to find some landmark outside to give him a clue as to where the hell he was but he recognized nothing. Must be in the middle of nowhere.

Suddenly he realized that he had found a weakness.

"You've got a lot of glass for someone who doesn't want to be attacked," He smirked.

"It's bullet proof," The man sounded annoyed.

"We've got a lot more than bullets, asshole," Michael muttered.

The man shoved him toward a door and Michael stumbled, "Keep moving."

He led Michael down another lavishly decorated hallway, then stopped at a closed door near the end. He reached forward and knocked softly on the door. Michael took note of his guide’s sudden timidness.

“Come in,” A voice commanded from the other side. “Carleton, is that you?”

“Yes, sir,” Carleton answered respectfully, opening the door. He roughly pulled Michael in behind him. “I brought him like you asked.

The room was arranged like a typical office. Like the room that Michael had passed through before, one wall was completely glass allowing generous amounts of sunlight into the small room. In the corner, there was expensive looking wooden desk and behind it sat a man.

A middle aged man in a sharp black suit. He looked like a typical corporate businessman except for the fact that he was clearly dangerously muscular.

“Thank you,” The corporate bodybuilder said, standing. “I think Mr. Jones has had enough freedom for today. Restrain him.”

Rage bubbled in Michael’s gut as Carleton shoved him roughly into a heavy wooden chair and extracted two thick zip ties from the inner folds of his suit. Glared at Carleton as his wrists were bound tightly to the armrests.

“Fuck you,” He spat.

Carleton swung, fist clipping Michael’s jaw.

“Enough,” The boss said sharply. “Wait outside.”

Carleton looked disappointed but was careful to mask his order-defying feelings as he slunk out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Michael’s jaw was still singing in pain when the boss grabbed his chin and forced him to look up.

“You don’t want information,” Michael asked, determined not to look weak. His words were laced with the Jersey accent that came out when he was angry. “So why am I here?”

The man dropped his hand, “And what makes you think that?”

“People who want information go for Gavin,” Michael said. “People who want revenge go for Jack. Desperate people go for Ryan- God bless their souls. The cops usually go for Ray, the racist dicks.”

The man smirked, but Michael knew he had caught the man’s attention.

“And who ‘goes for’ Geoff?” He inquired.

“No one’s that dumb,” Michael grinned. “They know to keep away from him. He’s a dangerous man.”

The man laughed coldly, “Geoff Ramsey? Dangerous? He’s an old drunken thug who think’s he’s hit the big time.”

Michael stopped smiling. He lunged at the man but his restraints kept him from doing anything. The man’s cynical smile widened, knowing he’d hit a nerve.

“You don’t actually care about me,” Michael realized. “You’re going after Geoff.”

“Figured it out, have you?” The man smirked. “You’re quite observant for an ill-tempered idiot.”

“Damn right I am.”

Personal insults had long since lost their sting for Michael.

“They’re gonna come for me,” He warned the man. “And when they do, their gonna wreck you.”

“What makes you think they care about you?”

Michael shrugged.

“Why would they care if they don’t even trust you?”

_It’s just mind games, Michael_

“After you betrayed them and ran off during what I believe is referred to as  _Michael’s Heist_ , what makes you think your ‘friends’ still want to die for you?” The man pressed. Michael looked at the floor, trying to block the man’s words out. “Because if they come here, that’s what will happen.”

Michael didn’t respond.

“Or maybe Lindsay will come for you,” The man was clearly enjoying himself. “I’ll be sure to do it myself.”

Michael could no longer resist the man’s words.

“Stay the hell away from her,” He snarled.

The man looked satisfied having received the reaction he had wanted. Michael cursed himself for showing the man his weakness.

“When my friends come for me, I’ll kill you myself.”

“How many more friends do you want to die for you?”

“No one’s died for me, and no one will!”

“We only needed you,” The man’s smile widened. “Free only got in the way. He knew too much and was dealt with.”


	3. Chapter 3

_00:02:07_

Geoff stared at the countdown, growing  more impatient by the second.

Two minutes left.

He stood, picked up the laptop and went to the Crew's conference room. He didn't notice the others following him.

"How much longer?" Jack asked.

"One minute, forty-two seconds," Geoff set down the computer. "I think I should do this alone, guys."

"No," The others said in unison.

He sighed and went to the cabinet in the corner of the room. From it he extracted two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey.

"I assume you two don't want any," Geoff said to Ray and Ryan, voice unnervingly calm. "Jack?"

"Sure," Jack was eager to agree.

Geoff poured Jack a socially acceptable amount and allowed himself a little more.

"He's going to hack the computer and turn on our webcam," Geoff said. "It's going to be a display of power and he wants to see our reaction.

"How do you know?" Ryan asked.

"Cohen Andrews is dangerous, insane-" Geoff paused to down his drink. "But also predictable. There's a formula to what he does."

\---

The boss man was setting up a monitor and camera, humming softly. Michael was still bound to the chair, annoyed by the cheery tune.

"Can you fucking stop?" He snapped. The man ignored him

Suddenly, the man grunted triumphantly and a countdown timer flickered to life of the monitor.

_00:02:07_

Michael couldn’t help his damn curiosity, “What the hell is that for?”

The man smiled but didn’t answer.

_00:02:01_

_00:02:00_

_00:01:59_

Michael looked away from the monitor, suspense building painfully in his chest.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Gavin.

_Why did I let him drive?_

Would things be different if Michael had put his foot down?

He refused to accept that Gavin was dead, but with the shot and the crash… the idea seemed dauntingly likely.

“Gavin’s not dead,” He muttered, partially to himself. The man turned.

“Oh?” He sneered. “I guess we’re about to see.”

He shrugged in the direction of the countdown clock.

_00:01:00_

_00:00:59_

_00:00:58_

“What’s going to happen?”

“We’re going to make a call,” The man told him. “I’ve decided not to gag you but-” He opened a desk drawer, pulled out a handgun, and pretended to inspect it, “-I’d suggest that you find some way to keep your filthy mouth shut while the adults talk.”

_He’s going to call Geoff! I’m being fucking ransomed!_

_00:00:41_

_00:00:40_

_00:00:39_

Michael considered his options. He could shout all the information he had or he could save himself a hell of a lot of pain.

He didn’t have much info to share, and none of it seemed like enough to take a bullet for.

_Hey, Geoff, there’s a couple windows._

_Hey, Geoff, this guy’s got minions out the ass._

_Hey, Geoff, this guy’s a dick._

“You said earlier that they didn’t care about me,” Michael realized. “So why do you think they’re gonna pay to get me back?”

The man stiffened, realizing his mistake.

_This cliche motherfucker is gonna be fun to mess with._

-

Geoff wasn’t feeling the effects of his whiskey like he’d hoped as the clock counted down.

_00:00:10_

_00:00:09_

“No matter what happens, you do not react.”

_00:00:08_

Ray bounced on his feet nervously.

_00:00:07_

Ryan cracked his knuckles and exhaled through his skull mask.

_00:00:06_

When the countdown hit five, the small camera light turned on. They were being watched.

When it hit 00:00:00, a browser window opened automatically to a live feed showing Michael- looking like shit- and Cohen Andrews.

“Geoff!” Michael said, shifting in the chair to which he was zip-tied.

_Whack!_

Michael swore as Andrews’ fist connected with his temple.

Geoff felt Ray exhale behind him, forcing himself to appear unphased.

“Looks like you’re missing someone!” Andrews said in mock surprise. “Where’s your pet Brit?”

“That’s none of your business, Andrews,” Geoff growled.

“Well Ramsey- and Jack, too! I’d love to sit and catch up but unfortunately, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Of course not,” Geoff said sarcastically.

-

Everyone on the screen looked too rigid, too professional.

Michael was still blinking spots out of his vision as he listened to Geoff and Andrews’ conversation.

“Of course not,” Geoff was saying dryly. “What. Do. You. Want?”

_Where’s Gavin?_ _Why isn’t he there?_

Michael’s heart sank. Could Andrews be telling the truth?

“If you want Jones back unha- well… _mostly_ unharmed, you’ll turn your weapon stores over to me as well as your funds,” Andrews’ line sounded stupidly rehearsed. “And then you’ll leave Los Santos.”

Michael wanted to be rescued more than anything in the world- he was about as far opposite from a self-sacrificial hero as one could get- but he’d be damned if Fake AH would kiss this guy’s ass to do it.

“Ran into trouble in Liberty City did you?” Geoff deadpanned. “You should’ve listened.”

“I chose to leave!” Andrews sounded defensive and irritated. “I didn’t run with my tail between my legs to Burns and Hullum unlike you two.”

So he knew Matt and Burnie.

"Burnie came to me," Geoff corrected. "Offered to get me off the ground where you are now."

Andrews finally revealed the gun he'd been hiding behind Michael's back and pointed it at Michael's head.

"I'm not on the ground," He hissed. "I've got a very valuable asset. All I need is guns and money and you'd be wise to provide."

_Fake AH doesn't bow down to idiots like this._

Suddenly, Michael couldn't hold back his shout. "Geoff do not do what this asshole w-"

Andrews aimed at Michael's foot and fired.

\---

Gavin woke up in a dim room. Through the curtains, he could see the sun setting over Los Santos in a blaze of orange fury.

He knew where he was. It was the second floor guest room of the mansion that Geoff and Griffin owned. This had been his room until he managed to buy an apartment of his own in he he city.

He dimly remembered Ryan helping him into a car and vaguely remembered Kerry driving him. He didn't remember getting here, or crawling into his old bed.

He pushed himself up carefully with his right arm and stood. His mind retaliated. He stumbled clumsily and his vision was obscured by black spots but he clung to the bedpost until the feeling passed.

He made his way out of the room and out into the hall. Walking quickly made his head spin so each of his steps were slow, careful.

He heard shuffling in the kitchen below him and followed the sound.

Griffin looked up from her phone when he walked in. She pushed herself off the counter.

"Hey, how do you feel?" She asked, motioning him to a stool by the counter.

"Fine," Gavin lied. "Where's Geoff?"

"He's still at the office."

"Take me there," Gavin said,

"No," Griffin responded firmly. "I've been given strict orders to keep you here until this blows over. You're in no condition to do anything right now."

She went to the fridge and tossed him a beer.

Luckily he had a knack for opening twistoffs singlehandedly.

She went back to her spot at the counter and propped herself tiredly on her elbows.

“I need to help them,” Gavin insisted. “He’s my boy and it’s my fault he’s gone.”

‘It’s not your fault,” Griffon responded calmly. “And you’re hurt. Geoff and the others can handle this. You just need to rest.”

“But-”

“Gav, stop. Getting yourself killed isn’t going to help Michael.”

He sighed. defeated, and took a large swig of beer.

“I’m making dinner,” Griffon changed the subject. “You should go back to bed. I’ll bring you food when it’s done.”

Gavin slid off the barstool and padded to the stairs with his drink.

“Hey!” Griffon called after him suddenly.

“Hm?” He turned.  
“Phone,” She said bluntly, hand extended,

“ _Really_?” He spluttered.

“Phone,” She repeated firmly.

With another defeated sigh he handed his phone over. Then he went back upstairs.

As much as he wanted to rest, he hated that once again everyone else seemed to be cleaning up his mess for him.

Halfheartedly he toyed with the idea of climbing out the second story window like a rebellious teen but quickly accepted that with a hurt arm it would be nearly impossible.

So he lay on the bed, isolated and aching, and pretended it was the right thing to do.

He watched as the sun dipped behind the mountains and tried to forget the past few hours.

It was pretty easy to do with a concussion, but every so often he would remember all over again.

Soon it was dark and the sounds of Los Santos nightlife sang outside his window.

Griffon came soon after sunset with the food she’d promised. It was a meal that Gavin remembered making with her and Geoff when Millie was sick. After checking his eyes with a flashlight and inspecting the stitches in his arm, she wished him goodnight, left him another beer on his bedside table, and reminded him that Halo 3 was in the Xbox in the corner just like he’d left it.

Once she’d gone, he chugged the second beer and picked at his food.

Suddenly, his pocket vibrated. Gavin slid his hand into his pocket and his fingers wrapped around his phone. Griffon was smart enough to take it, but she must have forgotten to hide it because nabbing it off the counter had been painfully easy for him.

He looked at his missed notifications and his stomach dropped.

 _Lindsay_!

Gavin checked his phone for the first time in hours. He’d missed a call and three texts from Lindsay. He went to his voicemail.

“ _Hey, Gav_ ,” She sounded worried. “ _Uh, I was supposed to meet up with Michael a few hours ago and he hasn’t shown up and I was just wondering if you’d seen him. So… call me?_ ”

He frowned, wondering if he should call back.

_Of course I should!_

He dialed her number and she answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lindsay.”

“Gav,” She sounded like she’d been waiting by the phone for the call. “Is Michael with you? He hasn’t shown up yet!”

Should I tell her?

The alcohol in his brain made the decision for him.

“Lindsay, can you come over to Geoff’s?”

-

“I flinched,” Jack admitted quietly. “I think he saw.”

“Shit,” Ryan muttered.

“Now what?” Ray asked.

Geoff handed the laptop to Ryan.

“No doubt he’ll have the IP scrambled,” He said. “But it won’t hurt to check.”

Ryan nodded.

“Jack, go work on getting a trace on Michael’s phone,” Geoff sounded strangely energized. “Ray, stop looking like you pissed yourself. Go blaze or whatever, I don’t care.”

“What’s with the sudden mood change?” Ryan’s confused expression was clear even through his mask. “We just saw Michael get shot.”

“We’re taking down Cohen Andrews,” Geoff grinned. “I’ve been waiting for this for fucking ever. I’m gonna make him regret being born. Fellas, we’ve got a heist to plan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry this is so late! Last week school and dance and general teen stress kinda hit me like a brick wall and I had like no time to write. This would have never been done with out my amazing nagging friends- Hi, Liv!!! ANYWAY, I need your help with something. So basically, I need to know if y'all want me to continue with Gavin's thing or keep it just Michael and Geoff. I have several different ideas for the ending and this is a big factor in which I'll choose. Also, this chapter wasn't edited at all because I wanted this up tonight and I'm pretty much brain dead right now. So sorry about that. As always, feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading and see you soon <3


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